


Aftermath Blues

by julliel



Series: Decisions Made [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2209911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julliel/pseuds/julliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She had living proof that a soul mark wasn't the only requirement to being deliriously, romantically happy (having spent enough time around Pepper and Tony outside of the bedroom), Darcy decided that if her soul mates can't make her happy then she'd just have to make due without them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. calm before the storm

**Author's Note:**

> I never intended on making a sequel to Take Over Control, yet here I am.

Their mission _was_ intended to last only one week, but, as these things go, it ends up being almost a month since they left. The delicacy of the matter called for complete radio silence and because of this Darcy finds she's forgetting why she was so confused and despaired in the first place.

 

Being away from her soul mates was like going camping-- able to breathe crisp, fresh air and achieving the intellectual, emotional, and spiritual clarity of the self that otherwise couldn't be achieved in the cramped, foul pollution of the city birthed from both technology and the concentration of so many people in a single place. 

 

Darcy found reason and logic in the absence of her heartbreak and decided that something had to be done. She can't allow herself to cheat any longer... if cheating is something she's actually doing. In retrospect, Darcy can see that what she had with Bucky and Steve was an informal sort of relationship. They did have sex on a consistent basis (Steve and her did, anyway) and she all but moved in with them (though a lot of her possessions returned to her room), but did all of that mean she was in an exclusive relationship with the two?

 

As happy is she is (“was”, she reminded herself) with them, she didn't feel comfortable enough to speak her mind, namely how unhappy she was with the status quo. The swaying facts dizzied her.

 

Yes, she waited basically her whole life to meet her soul mates. And she can't deny the euphoria of _finally_ being complete when she found the two of them (within a day of each other!) It was a dream come true, but now reality is settling in and it's not going away.

 

The time spent with Clint and Pepper and Tony respectively made her realize that she is a person. Like yes _duh_ she is a person, but also an autonomous, free-thinking human being with her own thoughts and, yes, needs that is fully capable of being herself with or without her soul mates.

 

It hits her. She's waited most of her life for her soul mates, but that doesn't mean she had only started living when she met them. Before ever meeting Steve or Bucky (or hell, any of the Avengers including Thor) she had a life that was her own, one that she dominated and fulfilled her only because she made it that way. And besides the fact, she had living proof that a soul mark wasn't the only requirement to being deliriously, romantically happy (having spent enough time around Pepper and Tony outside of the bedroom), Darcy decided that if her soul mates can't make her happy then she'd just have to make due without them.

 

It strikes her as funny that she's come to this conclusion in only a week of solitude (away from her soul mates, not other people) after months of being in an unhappy “relationship”.

 

=

 

Clint takes over her training while the boys are away. He's no less harsher on her than James, but afterwards he massages her aching muscles with a tingling oil and sometimes fingers her to a toe-curling orgasm that sends her to a deep and restful sleep.

 

She finally eats real food, none of that protein shit Steve delivers to her in the labs, courtesy of Tony and Pepper who are both epicurean to a fault and insist that she try every exotic dish they happen to have ordered that night.

 

She starts to gain back the weight she lost, and rubs at her slightly pudging belly in the mirror with a rebellious sort of satisfaction. If she can still kick ass, then she could afford to be a little chubby. And if Bucky and Steve find her less attractive than before, then sucks for them because Tony seems to find her new fat no less than fascinating and Pepper can't stop rubbing her hands up and down her luscious thighs whenever she gets the chance. She's not even going to get started on how Clint feels about all the new cushion.

 

She even gets better at training evidenced by Clint giving her a new knife to carry with her.

 

As she wipes a towel at her sweaty face, post-workout, Clint approaches her before she heads into the locker rooms.

 

“Clint?”

 

“Look, I'm only giving you this so we can start working on it. Doesn't mean you're ready to go hacking and slashing at anyone who pisses you off.”

 

“You think so lowly of me, Barton.” She says it jokingly but neither of them could deny the tell-tale gleam in her eyes as she pulls the knife out of its holster and admires the shiny blade.

 

“Don't think I haven't heard the stories of you and that taser.”

 

Darcy laughs, light and melodic, accepting the present with a fuzzy warmth in her heart. “Thank you. I'll work hard.”

 

It's funny how this reward system worked so much better than Bucky's.

 

=

 

Aside from the one (intensely hot, holy shit) sexual encounter they all had together, they don't have another orgy night. In fact, everything continues on as if they were dating her.

 

(And isn't that just fucking weird?)

 

Clint occasionally brings flowers to the lab. Jane promises not to say a word though Darcy suspects that the tiny scientist is inwardly smug that she decided to finally follow her advice.

 

They even go on double dates, with all the sly brushes under the table perpetrated by all parties towards one Darcy Lewis. She thinks she could get addicted to this and the feeling of being in the center of someone's world (through their choice alone and not some cosmic delegation) gives her a different kind of high than she had with Steve and Bucky.

 

=

 

She heads up to the top floor of Tony and Pepper's residential suite to find the power couple already getting a head start in making out on the couch. At the soft ding of the elevator, they look at the new arrival.

 

Darcy squirms in her shoes, unsure whether this was strictly Tony plus Pepper time when Tony holds up an offering hand and Pepper says, “Hello, darling. Come join us?”

 

Darcy lights up. She had missed this feeling for so long. The feeling that she was welcome to the fold, even if she wasn't specifically part of their relationship. She is welcome and they are happy to have her. So she is happy to be here.

 

But she starts to feel a persistent guilt. Steve and Bucky may not be here now but they will return, and when they do Darcy's going to have to confront them about the way things are- for better or for worse.

 

=

 

Darcy and Clint lay tangled up together on the couch after a bout of making out and groping. They haven't had proper sex again since that one foursome some nights ago, but she finds that just kissing and hanging out could be just as satisfying as a night of passion.

 

So of course she has to bring up her persistent thoughts to him one night after a date. Clint takes it all in stride though.

 

“You don't have to take them back if you don't want to.”

 

“But they deserve a second chance, right?”

 

“They don't deserve shit.” Silence.

 

“Look, it already sounds like you want to give them a second chance, and that's fine. As long as you're doing it for you and not from some misguided idea that being soul mates give them free pass to neglect or even abuse you.”

 

The support forums online said something in a similar vein, but it's a little different hearing it spoken so succinctly from a trusted friend.

 

“But what about you?” She puts a hand on his. He turns it around so their palms touch and he cradles her fingers in his own. Warm and calloused in the pads from slinging arrows. She experienced so much happiness and comfort from these hands. Just thinking about never touching them again, never seeing Clint again in this capacity fills her with pain.

 

It takes her a lot to say it but she finally lets out, “I don't want whatever we have to end.” Her eyes water. “And I sound like such a selfish bitch but- I want to keep you but I want to give them a chance too.”

 

The traitorous tears escape her before she has a chance to will them back, but Clint merely reaches a hand out to wipe away with his index finger. He brings the hand holding her fingers up to his lips. Gives them a soft kiss.

 

“Darcy. I am your friend, first and foremost. And no matter what happens, I will always be here for you... in whatever capacity you need me to be.”

 

At this declaration, Darcy throws herself in Clint's arms, embracing him as tight as she can and crying in relief, peppering tiny, chaste kisses all over his broad chest.

 

Clint holds her even closer and kisses her the top of her head.

 

“You're not gonna lose me, okay? So just do what feels right.”

 

=

 

She's ready. Ready to face them head on, and put her foot down on what is or is not acceptable to be in a relationship with Darcy Lewis.

 

She gets help from Tony and Pepper to finally move out all of her things in a different apartment. A new one, one that's been reinforced with security walls in case Steve of Bucky decide to use force to persuade her. Not that she thinks them capable of it, but it's sweet that Tony takes this extra precaution on her behalf anyway. (Also this new pad is an improvement from sharing a floor with Jane and Thor so that's always a plus.)

 

As if fate sensed her preparations, the mission finishes up and her soul mates return. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still mad at Bucky and Steve dammit.


	2. first wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like ripping off a band-aid.

Darcy waits for them to reach the landing, trying not to let nerves get the better of her.

 

Bucky reaches her first, his eyes narrowing as he takes in her figure. “You've been slacking.” He pinches at the widest slope of her belly when, on instinct, Darcy harshly slaps his hand away. He flinches back, more from surprise than from pain.

 

Darcy clenches her jaw and tilts her chin up in a move she's learned from Pepper that lets people know “Yeah I just did that, and I'll do it again if you don't fuck off.”

 

Before James can react to the sudden out of character-ness of his soul mate, Steve catches up and pulls her into an embrace, holding her with one arm and his duffle in the other. “We missed you so much.”

 

Darcy manages to quirk one side of her mouth in a semblance of a smile, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. “I missed you too.”

 

It's not that much of a lie.

 

=

 

They return to their rooms without grand fanfare. The boys too exhausted from their mission and Darcy too nervous about the upcoming, inevitable confrontation that is sure to happen in just a few moments.

 

She enters into the room behind them, standing right by the door so it doesn't have the opportunity to close her in.

 

Twin thuds of duffel bags dropping onto the floor and little cracks of bones stretching with their groans urge Darcy to hurry up, hurry so that they may hear the news before they get too comfortable. (Or is it already too late?)

 

She had only been with them for months, but she knows how this goes. They drop their things, stretch a bit, put their things back in the closet--

 

“Darcy...?”

 

Here it comes.

 

“Sweetheart.”

 

She tenses. She can do this.

 

“Where are your clothes?” The flung open closet and dresser drawers mock her in their emptiness.

 

Steve and Bucky swivel to turn at her. She expected the hurt, puppy dog eyes from Steve, but she didn't prepare herself to receive them from Bucky too. Her heart clenches at the sight, and she wonders if her pulse is beating so hard that they can see it jump in her throat.

 

She swallows painfully, willing the words she prepared beforehand (hours talking to herself in the mirror, writing them down only to crumple the papers later, reciting the words over and over in her head like a debate speech) to come out from her brain and leave her mouth.

 

“I'm leaving.”

 

The resulting silence is so stifling, Darcy's not sure if she's going to bolt from the room or hug them both and take it all back. Knowing that she's already made her decision, she know it's more likely she'll high tail it out of there.

 

“Not forever.” Probably. “I just need to find out some things on my own. Okay?”

 

She asks the last word in a specific tone, not like she's asking, “Is this okay?”, but rather “Did you understand me?” She backs up slowly, finally moving past the threshold of the room when they spring into action.

 

“Jarvis!”

 

“Yes, Miss Lewis.”

 

The door shuts automatically. She sprints the fuck out of there, ignoring the desperate cries of “Darcy!”, with Jarvis sliding, slamming, and bolting the doors shut as she passes. Though they're not reinforced enough to completely withstand the barrage of _two_ super soldiers, it's enough to hold them off as Darcy scrambles into the elevator. 

 

She allows herself to catch her breath as the metal doors close and holds onto the railing for support. “Ha!” She lets outs half-deranged laugh. She can't believe that happened, that she stood up to her soul mates (however briefly) and is, as of this moment, free of them so that she may get herself together.

 

The feeling is both exhilarating and bitter in the back of her throat.

 

She's free. _She's free_.

 

Oh, but at what cost?

 

=

 

Hours later, Clint finds her in her new quarters, huddled on the floor in front her couch like a beaten dog. Red-rimmed eyes don't even flicker to acknowledge her new guest's entrance, but he knows she's aware of him. Wordlessly, he takes the blanket hanging from the back of it and curls it around Darcy.

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

She shakes her head no. End of discussion.

 

Clint wraps his arms her and she climbs into his lap instinctively.

 

He kisses her on the cheek, nuzzling his nose into her hair.

 

Comforted by the warm protection his body provides, Darcy thinks she can be perfectly happy like this. Content to only have this romantic friendship with Clint; and what else could she call this anyway? They have sex sometimes, yes, but they also hold hands and kiss and talk intimately. They double date with Tony and Pepper and even stay at each other's apartments when they don't want to be alone. It's everything she could envision as an ideal relationship, only that certain element missing. She knows precisely what it is, but can't begin to explain it let alone give it a name.

 

If she had to describe it, then what she feels with Clint is like a steady, streaming river. Deep and constant and reliable, unlike the tumultuous, all-encompassing ocean that is her soul mate relationship. She could get used to something so stable as this. She might have even settled down with him in the end, if it weren't for his other soul mate in the equation.

 

She saw his mark one night alone together after their orgy with Tony and Pepper. She nearly bolted out of the room, crying her apologies for messing him and his relationship up. But Clint tried to assure her that his soul mate knew what was going on.

 

“How can you stand me? I'm a freakin' hussy! Sleeping around with other people's soul mates! I'm horrible!”

 

“Darcy! Darcy!” He kisses her then, nice and deep that the worries in her head melt away with her satisfied exhales.

 

He brushes her hair away from her eyes. The action so achingly tender. “He knows. He knows you're important to me, and that I would do whatever it takes to make you happy.” He gets a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “If he weren't completely into men, we would have included you in as our third just like Tony and Pepper did.”

 

Darcy gasps and play-hits him in the shoulder. “No, you wouldn't! Stop joking around!”

 

He merely laughs and allows her weak barrage, knowing in his heart his words were true. He loved Darcy as much as he was able, and his soul mate was more than accommodating with that fact.

 

Tonight, however, is not one of their light-hearted friendship nights.

 

“I'm so fucking stupid.”

 

Clint inhales sharply at the direct statement, but continues rubbing her back in soothing, circular motions. “Why?”

 

“Because I still love them.”

 

He suspected as much, and had prepared to back her up no matter what she chose in the end.

 

“It's okay to still love them, Darce. No one's gonna judge you for it.”

 

She replies to him in hushed, stuttering sniffles, and he holds her close, thinking (hoping) illogically that if he only held her tight enough, it would heal the cracks in her heart.

 

They don't say a word for the rest of the night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry. There's still some shit to go down; eventually Steve and Bucky are gonna have to have a talk with Clint, Pepper and Tony, and probably Darcy again at some point. 
> 
> I've got my sadist gloves on.


	3. the maelstrom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the knife?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. I am emotionally drained.

She doesn't see hide nor hair of them for a week, which is probably for the best. She fears that just the passing glimpse of them would send her backwards, make her take her words back and have her determination be for naught.

 

Jarvis is especially helpful with this, warning her when they head in her direction and diverting her through secret corridors within the Tower (why was she so surprised that someone as paranoid as Stark had secret passages throughout the technological monstrosity that is Stark/Avengers Tower?)

 

She thinks she can start healing in peace. Clint has officially taken over her training in her eyes but he's given her this much of a reprieve to focus on herself first. She wonders, not for the first time, if his code name is from his ability to read people and not his near superhuman eyesight.

 

Things flow at a routine pace of normal (not including when Darcy ducks away from sight of her two soul mates) until someone decides that raiding the lab would be a good idea.

 

Through instinctual action, Darcy shoves Jane out of the lab right before the alarm sounds and the entire floor goes on emergency lockdown, trapping her in with the four intruders.

 

The Avengers present in the Tower at the time (Steve, Bucky, Clint, and Tony) suit up in only minutes, but even that speedy readiness finds them too late.

 

It takes a while (and a few yells and maybe one or two shoves at some poor, peripheral agent) but the override kicks in and the doors open to reveal Darcy, a bloody valkyrie above what appears to be the last living man of the scene.

 

She kneels with her knees digging into the man's shoulders, straddling on his chest, yelling incoherently and without end, and hacking like a madwoman into the man's neck with the very knife Clint had given her. She roars a warrior's cry with every jab of fury, the blood splattering in fountain spurts with each blow. The man is dead already if he wasn't before.

 

Shock forces them to still and review the scene. Broken lab equipment strewn in the sidelines. The other three lay dead in various spots in the room.

 

“Darcy...?”

 

James gets to her first, and he's granted only a brief chance to really see her. Her hair wild and crusted with blood, crowning her head like an infernal halo. One side of her face blooming with an indigo bruise. Her eyes, bright with unseeing madness show how lost she is in her nature's instinct to fight.

 

He takes this all in within an instant before Darcy lunges at him.

 

She slashes at him blindly, eyes unseeing, not comprehending anything except that there are more bodies around her that intend to do her harm.

 

He parries each move, his Winter Soldier body reacting for him even when his brain can't compute fast enough what is actually happening. From behind him, he can hear Clint speak softly.

 

“Darcy. Darcy.” He leaves a small silence between each word. Letting her name absorb into her head before she can even understand what he's saying. “Darcy. You're safe. You're here. We're your friends.”

 

Clint matches his steps with every punctuation until he's closer to Darcy than James is. He ignores the stares that must be digging into his back, focused more on the way Darcy's eyes achieve greater clarity.

 

“Clint...?” she whimpers.

 

“I'm here, baby.”

 

The pet name sends a shock to Bucky and Steve, but no one pays them any mind.

 

The knife clatters on the floor, and Darcy throws herself in Clint's arms.

 

=

 

Medical insists on her staying in for a day at minimum to monitor her healing progress. Just as well, Darcy received a fractured rib and wrist, numerous bruises, and countless cuts. Thankfully nothing that won't heal within the month. If anything, Darcy finally proved she can give it her all in a life or death situation.

 

Clint comes into the room, with the two super soldiers standing outside helplessly, spying on them through the medbay window.

 

He sits on the chair next to her bed and laces their fingers together as his gaze rakes in her form, categorizing each injury and filing it away in his brain.

 

“Hey.”

 

“Hey.”

 

His eyes search hers, scouting for any hidden emotion that Darcy would keep to herself and let fester. Satisfied that she's sound in mind and heart, he leans over to place a soft kiss to her forehead, brushing away her flyaway bangs and resting his nose on her hair before pulling away.

 

Her soul mates look on with confusion and rising fury.

 

Clint turns with his back to the window so that they can't read his lips when he speaks.

 

“They're outside.”

 

“I figured.”

 

“They're gonna want to come in.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Do you want me to hold them off for you?” He says it in earnest but they both know they'd tear him apart at the first opportunity.

 

It's sweet that he'd face threat of dismemberment for her.

 

She pastes on a brave front and smirks at him. “Nah, I got this. Let 'em in.”

 

Clint opens the door. All three face off, not looking away even as they pass through the door. Then Clint breaks the silence stand-off it by snorting in amusement then walking away. The soft click of the door closing sounds like a small victory on his part.

 

James gestures a stiff chin in the direction of the exit. “Is that why you left?”

 

“No.”

 

“Why did you leave? We love you.” Steve.

 

“Do you?”

 

This instant reply is not what they were expecting.

 

“What?”

 

“Do you really love me?”

 

“Why would you ask that?”

 

“Do you love me or tolerate me because of our soul marks?”

 

“Where is this coming from? What went wrong?”

 

“I can see it you know. I can feel it and sense it. I'm not stupid.”

 

“We're not saying you ar-”

 

“You two have been each other's for so long, even before the ice, before everything. I don't know how I thought I was ever needed, wanted. When all I really was is a weakness. The one chink in your superhero armor.”

 

She hadn't planned this. Didn't expect to have this conversation so soon and in this situation, but the words pour out without her permission and she's too tired to reign them back in.

 

“I am not a weakness. Despite what you may think in that professional assassin brain of yours. I may be a weak link in your world but that does not mean I am less than-worth less than-!” At this, a sob catches in her throat, threatening to come out in the form of tears.

 

“No, please. We-I don't think of you that way.”

 

“Then why say it? Why act like it?” She stares hard at Bucky now, the rage evident in the glow of her eyes though they shine with unshed tears.

 

He looks at her, helpless, and in the back of her mind, she despairs because this is only time she's ever seen him like this and she is the cause of it.

 

His mouth opens and closes. He tries to form words that would appease her, that would repair this damage, but not even Darcy knows what he could possibly say that would excuse all of this.

 

“I love you,” he starts, his Adam's apple bobbing to swallow his spit and his pride,” and I didn't expect to. All I ever had was Steve and that was good enough for me. I knew about the second person but didn't think I could-that it was possible to love them even half as much as I did Steve. Then I met you and it's so- so fucking crazy because I barely know you compared to the years, the lifetime, I've had with Steve and I love you just as much.”

 

“But you're not a super soldier. You're not a fighter, and that makes you a target... I can only do so much. What if- what if my best is not enough and I can't protect you?”

 

Throughout this whole confession, Darcy remained silent. She knew somewhere inside that James indeed loved her. That he was doing all of this in his own fucked up way because he cared so much about her. But intention doesn't excuse action and if she doesn't want to forgive him- _them_ , really because Steve did nothing about any of this, just stayed quiet and hoped in vain that their issues would just fizzle and disappear, then she doesn't have to.

 

Darcy starts to speak, and she congratulates herself for not sobbing the moment she opens her mouth. “That's not fair.”

 

This is the last thing they expect her to say and their shocked expressions confirm it.

 

“So what, you love me? I can't believe-” She wrenches out a muffled scream of frustration, her lips held so tightly together that they form a thin line and she clutches the hospital bed sheets so tightly they almost rip. “I get it. You wanted to keep me safe. But you know what I wanted? To be loved. To _feel_ loved. To feel like I belong with the two of you, that I fit as an equal part of this triangle even though you guys were together for nearly a _century_. But I don't.”

 

She calms and speaks softly yet articulately. “I'm unhappy.” The words she's saying ring clear in her ears and her head and it only fuels her determination. “And if I'm unhappy, I leave. Soul mates or not.”

 

James and Steve hold silent for a moment, the words sinking in.

 

“Do you think you could ever forgive us?”

 

“No.”

 

To her great relief, she doesn't take the words back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to drink my real life pains away. Occasionally, it comes out in written form.


	4. driftwood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings are for revelations.

It's a day later when medical declares her fit enough to go home. Clint plays nursemaid to her and it's a sign of her fatigue that she doesn't complain or contest it in any way.

 

“You don't have to do this, you know.”

 

“I know. I want to. Now shut up and let me take care of you.”

 

She smiles impishly in a way that shows how she wants to retort to that, something deliberately naughty, most likely, but is refraining from it. Clint casts her an exasperated look.

 

After fussing around her apartment to make things easier for her, important things being brought down from the highest shelves, first aid kit within easy reach, list of phone numbers to call, and – dammit, Clint! I'm injured, not a child! – he leaves her on her own, and the absence of two certain persons hit her harder in the silence of her new abode.

 

She dreams. And it's less of a dream than it is a memory. A memory of being in bed with Bucky. It starts off wonderful and romantic. He lays between her legs, propped up on his elbows, and he looks at her with love and adoration. The lines between dream and memory blur at this point because Darcy can't recall a time when James had looked at her with such gentleness.

 

Then the dream turns and she knows it's a memory this time because James turns into the Winter Soldier and his metal hand is around her neck and this time her breath's taken away for an entirely different reason.

 

He gives her no quarter, the fingers digging into her throat. She claws at his arm. She kicks her legs with a futile effort then pushes her hips against his in an attempt to push him off or catch him off balance. To no avail. In her spotting vision, his face mirages into Steve's and phases back and forth, confusing her into seeing James as one and the same with Steve.

 

His fingers tighten, tighter still and not only can she not breathe, she fears he'd crush her completely--

 

“Darcy! Darcy, wake up!”

 

She does. Then lets out a scream to wake the dead. She screams and screams until the phantom pain of a metal hand recedes and she can finally breathe through the rough skin of her throat.

 

Someone's rubbing up and down her arms and speaking to her in soft tones. This can't be him.

 

“You're fine. You can breathe. You can do that. Can you do it with me, Darcy?” Someone breathes in. And breathes out. And again, until Darcy follows pace without thinking too hard about it. Their synchronized breaths eventually slow into a normal rhythm.

 

She opens her eyes though it takes a moment for them to focus and see Clint right in front of her.

 

“It's okay. You're safe. I'm right here. I'm here.”

 

After a tense moment, Darcy leans into him and Clint envelopes her in a loose hug, careful to give her an out if even this much human touch will freak her out.

 

“You want me to call someone?”

 

She shakes her head.

 

Clint ventures a guess. “Pepper and Tony?”

 

She nods. She can't bring herself to admit that she wanted nothing more than to be held in between two bodies, two specific bodies, but she's too shaken to think clearly.

 

He hurries out to the elevator, holding her in a blanketed bundle.

=

“Sir? Sir.” With the combined urging of his AI and the sleepy, incessant pats coming from Pepper, Tony blears awake.

 

“Mmphhwat is it, Jarvis?”

 

“Mr. Barton has requested to enter the suites. Ms. Lewis has had a nightmare.”

 

Tony pushes up from the bed, drowsiness fleeing his eyes. “Fuck. Yes, Jarvis let 'em in.” He turns and shakes Pepper, who had gone back to blissful slumber, awake.

 

“What's going on?”

 

“Lewis had a nightmare.”

 

Pepper gasps and at that moment Clint walks in with the precious cargo in his arms. Tony stands to leave room for Clint who lays her in the middle of the bed next to Pepper. She gathers a trembling Darcy in her arms and pets her hair.

 

Clint brackets her back and whispers, “You're okay, baby girl. You're with us now. We'd never let anyone hurt you, okay?”

 

Darcy merely nods wordlessly and pillows her face on Pepper's bosom. Combined with the warm, solid presence of Clint at her back, Pepper at her front, and Tony reaching over from behind Pepper to place a hand at her waist, Darcy feels safe enough to sleep.

=

It's morning. The sun shines bright through the top to bottom windows to welcome a new day.

 

It would have been an idyllic moment. Steve would make breakfast (egg whites and whole wheat toast for Darcy, virtually anything else for James and himself). James would wake at that moment and do his reps before sitting at the table. Darcy would patiently wait for Steve to finish-- no, that's not right. She would hide her grimace at her breakfast then shoot longing, jealous glances at Steve and Bucky's.

 

Steve feels awful because he's seen the signs. Been seeing them since they first appeared. But he turned a blind eye on them all because he naively thought that ignoring the problem would make it go away. Shoulda known better, Steve. The world has never worked that way and it never will.

 

He gets the urge to brain himself with the frying pan he's using but that would ruin the breakfast he's trying to make in an attempt at normalcy.

 

James gets the overwhelming urge to knock his head into something, so he does.

 

“Bucky?”

 

But he only bangs his head repeatedly on the wood dining table until Steve intervenes because that is an expensive piece of furniture and if Bucky wants to physically hurt himself then there are other ways to do it without destroying anything.

 

Steve gulps. He waits, tensely, to see if Bucky would open up to him now the tension of Darcy is gone. (Erroneous thinking, to be sure. Darcy wasn't the problem.) He waits until he remembers that the stove flame is on and that's he still cooking.

 

The sounds of sizzling eggs, the slimy slide of them flopping on a plate, and the coarse hissing of bacon being put in the pan fill the atmosphere before Bucky opens his mouth to speak.

 

“I heard her.”

 

“What?”

 

“Last night. She was screaming. She had a nightmare, I think.”

 

Steve waits with a clenched fist around the pan handles and another in the pocket of his (Darcy's) floral apron. He can tell James has got more to say, but he really wish he'd just come outright and say it. It seems all he does these days is wait for other people to speak their minds.

 

“It's all my fault. I did this- I should, I should go. I should leave. You can make up with her Stevie, she's not mad at you.”

 

The pan drops, clanging, on the metal frame of the stove square. Steve takes in a deep breath, as if the added oxygen could help him speak his mind.

 

“Yes, she is. She's mad at the both of us.”

 

Steve turns around and for once Bucky can see the guilt Steve holds on his broad (no, small, always small because that's who the real Steve Rogers is) shoulders.

 

“Look, we fucked up. Yes, you made a mess of things, but I-I let it happen.” He swallows. The admission of guilt sits like a cement block in his gut. “I knew it was happening and I didn't do anything for it. I stayed apart hoping things would solve themselves, but that was incredibly stupid of me, wasn't it?”

 

Bucky would agree if he wasn't otherwise flailing himself for his own failures. He knows Steve can pull the self-flagellating guilt trip like the good ol' Catholic pro that he is, but even Steve forgets that Bucky had grown up with him and can do his own self-torturing with practiced ease.

=

Darcy wakes up, this time in the arms of one Tony Stark who snores like his own slumber wasn't interrupted so rudely in the middle of the night before. Clint is nowhere to be found. Pepper flits about the room, getting ready for her own work day.

 

As she puts on her earrings, she sees Darcy with eyes open and following her every movement.

 

“Good morning.”

 

“...Morning.” Wow she feels like she swallowed a cactus last night. What on earth did you do, Darcy?

 

“I've got a meeting first thing today, otherwise I'd spend my whole morning with you.”

 

“S'cool.”

 

Pepper smiles gently at her, and Darcy can actually feel her affection radiating from her.

 

“Have a good day.”

 

She leans over the bed to press a kiss to Darcy's forehead and another one at the corner of Tony's mouth, Tony who snuffles at the motion only to return to sleep.

 

At the sound of the door sliding close, Darcy contemplates the likelihood of her going back to sleep until the strong arms tighten around her. Tony had been awake this whole time.

 

“Morning. How you feeling today?”

 

Darcy snuggles into his chest like that is her answer, nudging her nose against the arc reactor and taking comfort at its cold glow.

 

“I... miss them. Is that bad?”

 

“Not at all.”

 

“I want to go back to them. Not anytime soon!” Darcy holds a hand out as if to stop any judgment from being cast in her direction by the movement.

 

“But eventually, you want to give them a second chance.”

 

Darcy wonders if Tony is also a genius at reading her, like Pepper.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, that's it.”

 

“What about Clint? Have you talked to him at all about your feelings?”

 

“Of course I have. He's the first one I go to. Um, no offense.”

 

“None taken.”

 

“I love him. And I love you guys. You do know that, right?”

 

“I know. We love you too.” At this, Tony leans down to place a kiss on her hair.

 

“I just...” She clenches her lips together and screams behind her closed mouth in hair-pulling frustration. “I wish I had the words to say this.”

 

“I know. And I would never begrudge you on whether or not you want to take them back, whether or not you want to continue your relationship with us, or any combination of the above. None of them are mutually exclusive. Although you'd have to ask the rest of the parties involved.”

 

Darcy lets out an amused snort. As if Steve and Bucky would let her continue anything with Clint, Tony, and Pepper, even if the idea of her and Pepper together might be some incentive on its own.

 

“Look, I know our own relationship started out because of sex. Pepper and I were checking you out ever since you came into the tower, kid. But it grew into something else, and no matter what, we'll always care about you, okay?”

 

He brushes at her cheeks, now wet with tears.

 

“Maybe the same thing might happen with your boys.”

 

She nods, praying to Thor that he's right. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There needs to be more Tony/Darcy snuggles in fics. 
> 
> Also, the boys will get raked through the coals. Don't you worry.


	5. on the shore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rewind to the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting really tired of miserable Darcy. She needs some happy times. Maybe in the next chapter.

Steve is not anyone's idea of a coward, but when it comes to women, one in particular, he can be called a little “cautious”. He locks eyes with Bucky, notes the renewed determination in them when just the day before they had been filled with so much self-hate.

 

“This is a terrible idea.”

 

“No, it's not.”

 

“She's not the type of dame who would appreciate this.”

 

“Well, how would we know since we never bothered to know?”

 

Point. And Bucky knows he's got him.

 

Steve sighs and scratches a firm hand through his ragged hair. “Might as well, right?”

 

“Knew you'd see it my way.”

=

She thought maybe this was some kind of mistake.

 

“Um, did anyone-?”

 

She looks around the empty lab, now realizing that she's the first one here so there would be no one who might have seen the perpetrators.

 

The flowers sat innocuously in the middle of her desk, motionless and beautiful, almost as if it were mocking her in her confusion. She knew intellectually, in the logical part of her brain that continues to observe reality objectively no matter what her feelings may be, that these were for her.

 

That is, in fact, the case for the tag tied delicately around the slim neck of the vase was addressed to one Darcy Lewis, though without revealing the sender. There are several people whom these flowers can possibly be from, but Darcy's pretty sure she can make a guess.

 

Clint stopped with the flowers when her soul mates came back from the mission (and their fallout happened). Pepper and Tony would rather give her jewelry, gadgets, or an appliance if they felt like doting materials things unto her (surprisingly, Pepper is more spend-happy than Tony when it comes to giving gifts). Which leaves the obvious answer to one James Buchanan Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers. She wasn't sure if it were some kind of sick joke or if they sent it to her in earnest.

 

If it were a joke, then it was the worst kind of joke; she misjudged them poorly and would add 'having an inappropriate sense of humor' to their extensive list of faults. If it were the latter, then this would mean they would brave her disdain for the chance to perhaps court her properly (as she should have been since the discovery of their soul marks matching).

 

She's not entirely sure how to feel about it all either way.

 

What she does know is that in the present moment, she is still not ready to forgive either of them their transgressions. What she's not sure about however is whether or not this stance will hold steadfast in the wake of their new efforts. She fears that if these little acts of romance continue then her resolution will crumble and that she'll welcome the new change of heart.

 

She shouldn't forgive them, should she? She can hold onto a grudge as steadfastly as a child to their security blanket. It's easier to hold a grudge because it doesn't require a change of heart. It doesn't require the status quo to change. It's so much easier to stay mad when when she doesn't want to examine the different shades of her emotions.

 

Because she is tired. She is tired of feeling like the extraneous third in a lopsided triangle, tired of feeling like someone's weakness, tired of starving for any scraps of affection that can be spared to her. But perhaps most of all she is tired of feeling the acidic bitterness in her chest that bubbles up and threatens to consume her whole. She is tired of being angry and hateful against the two people that are supposed to hold her up against all odds. And though she may not be ready to allow them into her heart just yet, she thinks she will be. And soon.

 

She only hopes no one gets hurt in the face of her decision.

=

Steve and Bucky enter Pepper's office. Steve's back stands straight as a pole and his jaw clenches like he's waiting for a sock on the jaw. Bucky adopts a more relaxed gait, but the almost inaudible whirring of his metal plates betray his nervousness.

 

It doesn't help that Pepper's usually warm greeting is conspicuously absent and instead the icy gaze of Stark Industries' iron-fisted CEO welcomes them instead.

 

“Gentlemen.”

 

“Miss Potts.”

 

“I understand that you are endeavoring to win Darcy's heart... again.”

 

“This is true.”

 

The two glance at each other from the corner's of their eyes. Pepper Potts has something on her mind, and it might benefit them to listen for it.

 

She taps the end of her pen to her chin as if she's thinking long and hard about something though the sharp flint in her eyes signal that perhaps she knows exactly what she's going to say but only debating on how harshly to phrase it.

 

“You two were not very good to Darcy the first time around.”

 

Steve nods. Bucky only swallows, he'd only just admitted being wrong to Darcy to himself. He was not yet ready to admit such a thing to someone else.

 

“What makes you think you deserve another chance, hm? Because you're soul mates? Because it was written into destiny that you would be together forever no matter how much it hurt? What makes you think you could change and make her happy this time around?”

 

“We don't... We don't know. We don't know if we're deserving. We don't know if we can make her happy. But we know that we'll sure as hell try. Because we lost her once in our stupidity, but it won't happen again. We'll make sure of it.”

 

She narrows her eyes at them, and the two had never felt such intimidation from such slight a woman since Agent Peggy Carter.

 

“That's for her to decide.”

 

“We know.”

 

“I won't wish you luck.”

 

She doesn't say anything more and turns to her computer, abruptly shifting her attentions. After a stupidly awkward moment, they realize that was their signal to leave. They turn on their heels when she says one last thing.

 

“But I won't get in your way either.”

 

As they go, they think of how unusual Pepper's departing words were. Then they develop their own suspicions.

=

Clint sits on Darcy's bed with his feet planted on the floor. Darcy sits in between his legs, leaned back on her mattress as his rough archer's fingers comb through and braid her hair in little tiny braids.

 

“I'm confused.”

 

“About?”

 

“What I want.”

 

He waits for her to continue, knowing that she'll find the words eventually even if it will take her a long while. But he's not about to rush when he has the time to wait. He has about a fourth of her hair done in little braids by the time she speaks again.

 

“About... what's good for me. Good for everybody. I'm just really confused.”

 

“That's okay. It's okay to be confused.”

 

They slip into silence again. This time, Clint breaks it.

 

“You don't have to think about everyone, you know. It's wonderful that you're considerate of everyone involved. It's one of the things I love most about you- even if you don't like to admit it. You want to be in the middle as much as possible.”

 

He finishes off the braid he worked on and settles his strong hands on her shoulders, his warmth a comfort. “But it's okay if you think about just yourself this time around. It doesn't make you a bad person. And no one will hate you for whatever you choose.”

 

He gently turns her head by her chin so she can see the absolute sincerity in his eyes. “Promise.”

=

Darcy worries that it would be too much. Trying to heal wounds too soon without letting them breathe. But when she sees the two of them in the communal kitchen one sleepless night, she thinks it's the right time to give them _some_ quarter.

 

They freeze at her entrance. Steve at the sink and Bucky in the middle of wrapping leftovers with cling wrap. It's a strangely domestic scene for such larger than life people. A timid voice in the back of her mind pipes in that she could be part of that picture if she wanted to.

 

She passes them both by as easily as she avoids bumping into the kitchen's island counter to procure herself a mug of milk, heating it in the microwave. There's a tense silence as the gentle hum of the machine works its heat then dings its completion. The two of them don't move an inch nor turn their faces to her but she knows they're watching her through the corners of their eyes.

 

She wordlessly takes the mug. Then, against her better judgement, she says, “Hey.”

 

Then leaves.

 

It's only a word. One word. A single word that means nothing more than a simple, casual greeting.

 

But at this greeting, Bucky and Steve heave out relieved sighs. If she acknowledges their presence at the very least then she might be open to more-- like friendship... and hopefully the restoration of their soul mate love.

 

They want nothing more than to sweep her up in their arms and kiss apologies all over her face. To pour all their love into their lips in the way words wouldn't suffice in their stuttering tongues. But they refrain because this is how much she chooses to give them, and they will stay satisfied with the scraps she gives them just like she forced herself to be happy with the scraps they offered her.

 

It's only fair of course. And the two are more than willing to pay the price.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. I'm having a hard time thinking of suitable emotional punishments for the boys to experience (that's not their own masochistic, self-flagellation). Any ideas?


	6. second wave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One step forward, two steps back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: I'm still alive!

Red. All she can see is red. There's a pressure in her palm that tells her she's holding a knife, and the dull sounds of metal slicing through flesh tell her that she's using it. She can't see who she's stabbing. All she knows is that she has to do this. Stay alive. Make them proud. Look what I can I do! Am I worthy now? Am I worthy, am I worthy-will you love me? Won't you love me? Please please please-

 

Darcy sits up with a gasp, eyes wide and her mouth open gasping for breath. An acidic sensation goes up her throat before she wills it down with a swallow. Something good from skipping dinner last night; there's nothing for her to vomit.

 

She settles back down on the bed, purposefully breathing deeply, methodically in just the way Clint showed her to. She wants to call him. She wants to call Pepper and Tony. She wants two sets of arms holding her close and letting her know that she's not alone.

 

Darcy is starting to get used to not getting what she wants.

 

=

 

This is not the first time Darcy rushes away from science to the hand washing stations just to the perimeter of the lab. Jane pays her no mind, assuming that this is just another one of her “Darcy things” and that everything's okay as long as she does her job. Darcy doesn't hold it against her. She can play at normal when she wants to... except perhaps at this very moment.

 

She washes her hands. Again. And again. Scrubbing under nails. Scratching at the knuckles. Until the soap dries her hands to paper and her skin starts to split and bleed between the cracks.

 

“I think they're clean enough.”

 

She startles, looking up at this newcomer as the faucet water rushes through as background noise.

 

Phil Coulson stands there, looking very much alive and not all stabbed through with Loki's scepter. The only object hinting at his condition is the plain black cane he holds in his hand. It's fashionable and unassuming enough to look like an accessory, but Darcy can see his subtle lean. Agent he may be, invincible he is not.

 

She looks back to her hands. Clean as he said they were. Free from the blood she thought she was washing out.

 

“Oh. I guess they are.” Turns the faucet off and grabs a paper towel. She tries not to scrub at her skin too harshly in front of him.

 

“Was that your first time?”

 

She doesn't bother pretending not to know what he was talking about. He _would_ know. Shit, everyone would know. It's not like the laboratory attack was some small event, nor can the previously thought useless assistant turned out to be capable of killing. But it's something she wants to move on over it as soon as possible though she naively hoped that everyone else would get with the program.

 

Darcy nods. He props the cane against the sink and envelopes her in a hug, calm as you please, as if this is something he does everyday. After the shock of it passes, Darcy returns the hug tighter than ever and buries her nose in his familiar scent.

 

She could have sworn she knows this smell, and is about to ask him about it when he beats her to it.

 

“Clint told me.”

 

Oh. So this is his soul mate. She should have known.

 

She wants to pull away, apologize, beg for mercy, _something_ because fuck she'd been sleeping and playing house with his (boyfriend?) soulmate for months now. And why on earth would he allow this?

 

When she squirms in his arms, his response is to hold her tighter. He calms her, steady voice in her ear. “It's all right. I'm not mad.”

 

She stills at the words.

 

“I mean it, Darcy.” He puts a hand on her head, the warmth of it grounding her to the present. “Clint and I... our relationship isn't conventional, as you might have guessed, but I am okay with it. I promise.”

 

She can't quite wrap her head around it so she steps back a little to find the truth in his eyes. “So you know. That Clint- that we-” He nods, and she sees not traces of anger or resentment or even jealousy in their depths. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me have him for a while.”

 

Coulson chuckles at that. “I don't _let_ Clint do anything. He does what he thinks is right, and luckily for me I just happened to agree with him.”

 

The arrangement of the relationship runs around the logic sphere in her brain and it won't stop long enough to let her decipher it.

 

“It's fine. Not a lot of people understand. Just know that we're okay. _We_ are okay.” The emphasis he puts on that 'we' makes her think that he's not talking about him and Clint, but rather him and her, the two people on either side of Clint's world.

 

Darcy smiles. She doesn't understand it, but she'll take as many people on her side as she can get.

 

=

 

The next time she sees Clint, she punches him good-naturedly in the shoulder.

 

“Ow! What was that for?” He rubs the spot like it hurts, even pouts for good measure, and Darcy sticks her tongue out at theatrics.

 

“You never told me that Phil was your soul mate.”

 

“You never asked.”

 

That is the most annoying response ever, she decides, and attacks him with a pillow to the face. The next minutes feature a friendly war of pillows and other couch accessories before they resort to fighting with mouths and tongues.

 

She pulls at his shirt and scratches his back, something she knows he likes even though he doesn't admit it. Clint, however, contents himself without only putting his hands under her shirt instead of taking it off completely. The energy of their little rabble fizzles quickly, and their kisses turn lazy and tender until they simply hold each other on her bed.

 

They relax into what has become their usual positions, Darcy on her back with Clint laying on her and his head pillowed on her stomach or her breasts. She idly plays with his hair, gently tugging on the random spikes as she pleases.

 

“I'm really glad Phil is your soul mate,” she says finally.

 

“Me too.”

 

She is so content like this, a sleepy happiness overcoming her eyes and the comforting weight of Clint on top of her. She's not alone in her life. She never really was. She has so many friends who only want to see her happy and would do everything in their power to bring her there, Clint most especially. How could she have survived without him?

 

“Thank you for being my friend,” she whispers.

 

He lifts his head, leveling her with an appraising look, like he's heard a certain finality in her voice. When he sees that her words come from nothing but a blissful daze, he settles back and replies, “You don't have to thank me. But you're welcome.”

 

=

 

With bursting platonic affection still beating in her chest, Darcy invites Pepper and Tony out to dinner. They're both booked full that night, to her disappointment, but promise to return with a confirmed date sometime during the week.

 

It cheers Darcy a bit, knowing that she has them to look forward to in the immediate future, and at least now she finally has time to catch up on shows she's missed.

She deposits herself in the common area, legs folded into her and a laptop balancing on her legs. A glass of water stands on the coffee table, condensation sliding down its sides and onto the table. She half-heartedly thinks about getting up for a coaster but finds that she doesn't have the energy nor the will to really do the adult thing. She lazily browses through her Netflix queue when a certain ex-Russian assassin skirts the edge of her vision.

 

He stands just in the right that she can't ignore him completely so she mentally sighs before bestowing her gaze upon him.

 

“Hey.”

 

“I was thinking that maybe we could have dinner some time. You know, just the three of us.”

 

She knows that Bucky's not one to mince words when there's business to attend to, but, gee what a fucking greeting. Also there's something to be said that it's James who does the asking and not Steve. Darcy's not gonna budge an inch, not for something like this. She's notoriously stubborn that way. When she decides something, it will be at her leisure and not a moment before.

 

“Um,” she starts, adopting an apologetic tone because she really is sorry for it even when she can feel irritation taking over her, “Not tonight. Or the rest of this week for that matter.”

 

James is taken aback, and it annoys Darcy further. What was with the attitude? Did he expect her to do nothing and wait around for them to get their heads out of their asses?

 

“Why?”

 

“I'm busy, that's why.” This is getting real old, real quick.

 

“Doing what?”

 

“Having dinner.” _You idiot_ , she continues in her head.

 

“What, why? Who are you having dinner with? “

 

Her niceness officially falls back at the accusations in his voice.

 

“That's none of your business!”

 

“The hell it isn't!”

 

She flinches back, less from fear and more from preventing her from punching him in the face.

 

“You get the hell away from me, James Barnes. You have not rights to me, and you sure as hell don't own me.” She levels him her best glare.

 

“I'm only looking out for what's best--”

 

She splashes him with her glass of water. It doesn't hurt. It's not meant to. Physically at least. “You always says it's what's best for me and looked how _that_ fucking turned out.”

 

She leaves him, dripping, in the kitchen. Bucky wonders how he's fucking everything up so easily.

 

Natasha walks in right when Darcy disappears from view. To her credit, she doesn't say anything or even bat an eyelash at Bucky's dripping form. She merely sidesteps him into the open kitchen to get a glass of orange juice.

 

“I know what you're about to say.”

 

Her lips poised on the glass, Natasha looks surprised that he's speaking before putting on an unreadable face. “I wasn't about to say anything.”

 

“You mean you weren't going to tell me what a fuck-up I'm being? How I manage to ruin everything in the blink of an eye? How I destroy the love that comes into my life?” He's speaking from the hurt and embarrassment he just faced, redirecting his negative emotions towards her, the next available person. It's because of this she refrains from kicking him in the solar plexus.

 

“It would be useless as it seems you have a clear idea of that already. Besides, you're hardly the only one at fault.”

 

Orange juice done and lecture time over, she leaves him to stew on her words.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how about that Age of Ultron, huh? *crickets chirp*


End file.
